


Addiction

by Janamelie



Series: Back To Reality [5]
Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Dom!Lister, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Incest, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 05:24:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16988844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janamelie/pseuds/Janamelie
Summary: Sebastian intervenes to get Billy off the booze.  But some addictions are more easily controlled than others.A standalone fic covering similar themes to the rest of this series.





	Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> I answered my own Kink Meme prompt because some fics just need to be written.

He had always known Sebastian would snap eventually.  Brothers or not, there are only so many times you can tarnish the Voter Colonel’s reputation for ruthlessness with your drunken carousing before he has to be publicly seen to be doing something about it.

The only surprise is the form the intervention takes.  He is - so he’s later informed, at least - simply plucked from the latest gutter he’s fallen into and whisked off to the rehab centre he subsequently wakes up in.

Naturally, Billy isn’t given a choice in any aspect of this.  He is put through an immediate, total detox and endures withdrawal without so much as a five minute visit from his brother to soften it.  The first two days are a sleepless hell of shaking, sweating and nausea.

After a fortnight or so, he begins to feel almost healthy again.  The medication he’s been put on takes the edge off his cravings, reducing them to muffled background noise.  When he’s told that he’s about to be discharged, the roar starts up again and he pleads to be allowed to stay longer.  “I’m not ready!  I’ve got nowhere to go.”

“Of course you have.”  The gratingly cheerful nurse smiles, clearly starstruck.  “The Voter Colonel himself is taking you in.  Despite all the embarrassment you’ve caused him.  Such a remarkable man.”

_ I don’t know how you can possibly be related to him _ hangs in the air as Billy’s jaw drops.

 

 

 

He’s unsurprised that the Voter Colonel hasn’t come to collect him in person.  A stern looking man who positively screams “Cop!” introduces himself as Hunter and takes him away in handcuffs.

The journey to Sebastian’s mansion isn’t that long, but feels it.  Trying to wrangle information out of this almost robotic servant of the State is like getting blood out of a stone.  

Billy sighs in frustration as the clamouring in the back of his brain gets louder.  “Tell me one thing.  Why doesn’t he just have me killed?”

Hunter’s derisive snort is the first sign of an actual human being in there.  “Believe me, Mr Doyle.  If I ever receive that order, it will be carried out immediately.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“You’re sober now.  Use what’s left of your brain,” Hunter snaps back.  

Billy can’t understand why he appears to have hit a nerve.  “You don’t actually think he cares about me, do you?  He just wants me out of harm’s way so I can’t do any more damage to his reputation.”

The withering glare he receives in response shuts him up for the rest of the drive.

 

 

 

The Voter Colonel’s official residence is well-guarded and luxurious.  The room Billy’s escorted to is the pleasantest he’s lived in for many years.  He takes a shower and washes his freshly cut hair, his spirits rising despite himself.

The clothes in the wardrobe are brand new, tags still on.  They’re not what he’d have chosen himself, but they fit reasonably well and are clean and free of holes.  He’d almost forgotten what that feels like.

There has to be more to this than meets the eye.  He knows that much about his brother.

 

 

 

Over the next few days he explores what he can of his new home.  Several areas are locked to him.  None of the surprisingly few servants will let him satisfy his curiosity.  “Voter Colonel’s orders.  Sorry, sir.”

Sebastian is away.  The only person who remains in the building during the night other than himself is Hunter.   He is, as far as Billy can gather, the person in overall charge of its security.  Even though it seems his brother doesn’t spend a great deal of time here, he undoubtedly has more than enough enemies to necessitate a full-time, live-in position like this.  Guards patrol the perimeter of the grounds constantly.

It’s not lost on Billy that there is no way he’s ever getting out of here unless Sebastian lets him.  Even a fully fit and healthy person wouldn’t have a prayer.

There’s nothing he can do except wait.  His anxious boredom lifts when he finds a sketchpad in a drawer.  

He can’t help but jump guiltily when Hunter checks on him.  Even though there’s nothing incriminating about the drawings he’s done so far, who knows what Sebastian may have told him about his reprobate of a brother?  His alcoholism already puts him beyond the pale for many; knowing how much more scorn and disgust he would attract if they knew the cause of it only exacerbates his shame.

His cheeks turn red as the man eyes his latest, not quite finished sketch.  It’s a simple head shot of his brother, smooth dark hair pulled back into his trademark ponytail.  No matter how he tries, he can never quite capture those rich brown eyes.

Hunter picks it up and looks at it for far longer than he expects.  Too long.  “That’s … good.”  He turns and leaves, adding over his shoulder: “I’ll get you some more sketchpads.”

Billy stares after him.  It can’t be … of course it can.  Of course Sebastian would hire someone who’s in love with him to protect his home.  What better guarantee of diligence and trustworthiness?  He shakes his head.

 

 

 

His sleep patterns are almost back to normal, so when Billy wakes at around three in the morning he’s not sure whether to put it down to his continuing alcohol withdrawal until the sounds a few doors down from his room get louder.

Billy pads softly down the carpeted corridor towards the crack of light, sensing something out of the ordinary.  The noises just don’t sound right to just be Hunter moving around his own room, not even if he’s…

He guesses what it has to be before he looks, but it still takes every ounce of his self-control not to make his reaction audible as he sees them on the bed, Hunter face down and naked, Sebastian moving on top of him.

Save for his jacket discarded on the carpet next to his briefcase, the Voter Colonel is still in his work clothes.  His measured pace belies the apparent urgency of this tryst.

Billy stares as though hypnotised, absorbing every detail - the tantalising glimpses of Sebastian’s body between the gaps in his clothes, the touches of his fingers and lips against Hunter’s skin as he moans into the bedsheets, the … the...

He retreats back to his room, overwhelmed.

 

 

 

He comes in what feels like a record time for him, but his brain won’t allow him more than a few blessed minutes of not thinking.

Why is he shocked?  He suspected Hunter was in love with his brother, and what better way to reinforce his devotion than by giving him what he craves?   Yes, that’s perfectly in character for Sebastian.  But…

No.  The Voter Colonel is incapable of such emotions, he repeats to himself over and over as he tries in vain to go back to sleep.

He spends the next day failing to look Hunter in the eye and doodling furiously through sketchpad after sketchpad.  There is no sign of his brother, but the buzz of activity around his private suite tells Billy that he’s still here.

As the sun begins to set, he looks out of his window and spots the daytime staff members leaving.  He paces around his room until he can’t stand it any longer.

 

 

 

This time, the door of Sebastian’s suite opens easily when he tries it.

The spacious combined bedroom and office is empty, but a door leads off it into a previously hidden corridor.  Billy moves along it until he rounds a corner and suddenly there it is.  A wide-open door and Hunter on his knees before his brother.

There’s no point in trying to run this time.  Sebastian sees him immediately.  “Billy.  Come in.”

He sounds neither surprised nor angry.  Amused, if anything.  Of course the unlocked doors are intentional; the Voter Colonel would never be that careless.  Or at least, not twice in two days.  Was last night a set-up too?  It didn’t look it.  Maybe they heard him as he fled.

Billy steps inside.  Sebastian is dressed as casually as he’s ever seen him, in a simple but still expensive white silk shirt and black trousers.  His unknotted tie dangles from the collar of his shirt.

The well-equipped and subtly lit dungeon - is that the right word in the circumstances? - barely shocks Billy at all.  This is how he’d expect their dynamic to be if in a r- an arrangement, not whatever that was last night.   **This** makes sense.

Hunter doesn’t react to his presence at all, not even to attempt to cover his nakedness.  His gaze is trained on the floor.

Sebastian gives Billy time to take in the whole room, watching him as his eyes fall here and there in bafflement or discomfort before widening at the sight of a whip hanging on the wall.  And what the  **hell** is that metal thing?

“Right Billy, I’m just going to cut to the chase here.  You have two choices.  Stay here and watch.  Or go back to your room.  Pick one.”

Billy gapes at him.  “I … what…”

Sebastian gestures at a leather chair.  “I can handcuff you to that and gag you, and you can watch.  Or go back to your room.”   _ And wank yourself to sleep _ , he doesn’t add.  His tone does it for him.

For just a moment, Billy imagines himself gathering enough pride to say “No,” picturing his brother’s face as he turns and walks away, his head held high.

His gaze drops from those mesmerising eyes, down to full lips, then to Sebastian’s open-necked shirt where it parts to reveal soft brown skin.  He shivers.  

Even if he could summon the strength to go this time, there will be next time, and the one after that.  As his brother knows perfectly well.  Billy never stood a cat in hell’s chance in this game which he didn’t even know they were playing.

He musters a token protest.  “What if - what if I change my mind?”

“I’ll leave your feet free.  If you want out at any time, stamp three times.”

Billy looks down at Hunter, but from his still frozen posture and bowed head, it seems that he neither has a say in this discussion nor expects one.

He nods slowly, his face hot.

 

 

 

Before fastening the gag, Sebastian looks him dead in the eyes.  “Understand this, Billy.  When I say “watch”, I mean that and nothing more.  Ever.  Got it?”

Pride?  What pride?  Abandoning his last vestige, he nods.  “Got it.”

He doesn’t change his mind.

 

 

 

And so the routine is established.  His alcohol cravings recede into the background as his original addiction supplants its successor.  Maybe he still can’t have Sebastian, but he sees more of him these days - in more than one way - than ever before.

Whenever his simmering jealousy of Hunter grows too unbearable, he reminds himself that without his presence he wouldn’t even have this much.  Even if he would still happily succumb to even the most frightening piece of equipment in that secret room if it was at the hands of Sebastian, he’s developed a wary tolerance for the man who does so in his place.  If they have nothing else in common - and they really don’t - his brother is the one thing they can agree on.

And he no longer needs to imagine how terrifyingly beautiful Sebastian is in the heat of passion.  A thousand images are seared into his brain forever.

Billy knows there are times when he is excluded.  Sometimes the door of either Sebastian’s suite or Hunter’s room remains firmly locked, often when Sebastian has returned after a long absence.

He persuades himself that the reason is the extremity of whatever kink Sebastian has decided he wants to indulge, not anything more intimate.   He ignores that Hunter’s bedroom is hardly set up for such scenarios.  

It disturbs him less than the alternative.

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this prompt in the Kink Meme: "Sebastian Doyle as the Dom to a very willing Blue-eyed Cop please. Bonus points if Billy's a consensual voyeur, having realised that this is as close as his brother will let him get".
> 
> I still can't write D/s, but I got as close as my brain would let me.


End file.
